


ocean eyes

by roasthoney



Category: GOT7
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 09:29:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19720930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roasthoney/pseuds/roasthoney
Summary: Mark and Jinyoung go to the beach.Canon compliant examination of Mark and Jinyoung's relationship and their trip to the beach before the L.A. stop.





	ocean eyes

**Author's Note:**

> this is not romantic and all, mostly self indulgent, and born out of love for how the boys support each other. this is not to make light of what happened or insert any fan fantasies into it. i just have a lot of feelings! if you do feel like this is inappropriate, please share your thoughts by comment, dming me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/roasthoneyed), or on [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/roasthoney).

Jinyoung likes to think of himself as Mark’s opposite. The kind that when combined, settle into a ritual of harmony and comfort. With the other members, there are points of reflection but not a mix that ends in peace. There’s balance of quirks and energies, but it results in an explosion of joy, humor, or playful teasing, not calm. He’s had to learn some of them the hard way; he now knows them better than he knows himself. 

But with Mark, it all fell into place on the first day. Mark’s naturally reserved, but with a warm front. Jinyoung’s boundless when he allows him to be, and forces himself to be contained. Mark is achingly sentimental, but doesn’t like to talk about it. Jinyoung fashions words that sound sweet, but his heart is pragmatic. Jinyoung likes to dote as much as he likes to be doted on, and Mark is happy to fill whatever space is given to him. 

It works. There’s no question that it works. It feels unremarkable, sometimes, because it came so naturally, but Jinyoung reminds himself that it doesn’t mean it isn’t _rare_ — what they have. 

Mark needs a person to lean on. Jinyoung’s happy to be that person. With Jaebeom, it’s a push and pull, a lingering question in the back of the mind on _how_ vulnerable one should be, a reading behind layers and layers of meaning behind each word and brush off when things aren’t okay. 

For Mark and Jaebeom, the age doesn’t go away. It won’t ever go away. It equalizes — things have changed, and Jaebeom is still the leader who supports them all. But Mark knows, acutely, when he’s around Jaebeom’s shoulders and sees how much they carry, how his own role is also to be a pillar. A different kind — but still, a point of harmony and mediation, even when sometimes he’s the one acting out with his explosive temper. Jaebeom carries the front, and Mark carries the back — that’s how he likes to think about it. Jinyoung’s the shadow behind them all, making sure the small but important details don’t get forgotten. 

So when Mark falters, Jinyoung knows what he needs, and how he won’t ask for it. 

Jinyoung knocks on Mark’s hotel door in his usual way. A few short, loud, raps. He thought earlier that he could text him, but this feels more fitting. 

“Hey,” he greets easy when the door creaks open. Mark’s face untwists when he sees that it’s him. Jinyoung’s insightful enough to notice the phone clutched in his hand. The page that’s open. One that usually means joy, replying to fans whenever they get the chance, but today feels different.

Mark hastily locks his phone so that it fades to black. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Mark lets the door swing open; an open invitation to come in. He’s always like that, Jinyoung thinks. So open compared to Jinyoung’s careful, quiet, vetting process of who can or can’t be trusted. 

It’s not a weakness, but today it comes with a bitter edge. 

“I was thinking, do you want to go to the beach?” 

Mark looks outside — their hotel windows are huge, nearly the span of the entire wall, a reminder of how far they’ve come from their first tour. L.A. in the dark looks peaceful compared to how it riots in its strong sunshine mornings. 

“You want to go to the beach at night?” Mark asks, puzzled but not judgmental. 

“Yeah, it’ll be nice. Come on.” Jinyoung coaxes him out with a small smile. 

“Alright,” Mark agrees without fuss, laughing small but genuine, “let’s do it. Why not?” 

“One thing.” Jinyoung pauses him with a hand to the middle of Mark’s chest. “We leave these behind.” He raises his own phone and pointedly tosses it onto the bed. 

Mark’s face shutters between emotions; unreadable. But he does it too, and that’s all the answer Jinyoung needs. It might not be so safe without a way to contact their managers if something goes awry, but it’s important. Besides, there’s a beach connected right to their hotel and Mark has no language or cultural barriers here. 

Thankfully, they’re the only ones outside once they start walking onto the sand. It slips between Jinyoung’s toes and fills his sandals, but he finds he doesn’t mind. The water roars nearby, a great massive thing so dark that it feels like it could swallow them whole and leave no trace, no mercy, no regret. A wave too big to escape. 

Jinyoung kicks sands into Mark’s sneakers and it earns him an affronted “hey!”, then a brief kicking war, and laughter and dashing around until they draw a mutual truce and sit down. 

They just breathe for a while, quiet, taking it all in.

“I would ask how you’re doing, but I have a feeling you won’t tell me the truth,” Jinyoung starts, careful in how he speaks and how he keeps his eyes on the sea. 

Mark leans back and lets his smile slip. 

“I don’t know if you’ll like the truth,” he says softly, acting as a caretaker to the end. But maybe it’s easier that way for Mark, maybe if he spends his time looking after others he won’t have to offer any real emotions of his own. Maybe he likes to keep his most private thoughts private — aren’t they the only things he has left for himself, truly only his and no one else’s?

“I know. Maybe I won’t. But I’m still asking you, aren’t I?” 

“You are.” Mark huffs, a sound of amusement. “Stubborn, aren’t you?” 

Jinyoung smiles. “Not as stubborn as you are.” 

Mark rolls his eyes, exaggerated, but the mood feels lighter. He takes off his shoes, his socks, and buries his toes in the cool L.A. sand. It comforts him, something like an ostrich burying its head in the sand, but he knows he isn’t an ostrich. Wouldn’t be so bad to be one — but he isn’t. He’s an entertainer, who sells himself — and he knows it isn’t so crude as it sounds, but he knows how important it is to appear as someone palatable. Someone with character. Someone ideal, virtuous, _perfect_. Someone who doesn’t make mistakes. 

“I feel. I don’t know. It feels like those early days again, as a trainee. When I barely knew Korean and talking to people, it was like, scary how easy it was to say something wrong, you know? There are so many — rules, and I get I have to follow them. I get it. And I’ve never had trouble apologizing. And that’s not it now. That part isn’t what’s bothering me.” 

Jinyoung lets the crash of the ocean fill the space. He lets Mark go at his own pace, even when he hears his voice break and can tell that the corners of his eyes are beginning to glimmer. 

“It’s. There’s the Mark I’m supposed to be. And there’s the person I am. I know they’re not the same. But then, there’s this other guy that people say exist, this guy who fucks up, who does all these shitty things, and I don’t know who he is, you know?” 

He pauses. He breathes, but it’s hard to.

“And I think. Is he real? Is that me, who I am?” 

“No.” Jinyoung answers firm, certain, as final as he could ever sound. “That’s not you. I know who you are — the people you care about, they know who you are too. _You_ know you.” 

Jinyoung shifts closer so that their thighs touch. He holds Mark’s nape in his palm, squeezes it to comfort him. 

“You’re not alone. Isn’t that amazing?” Jinyoung breaks out into a grin, eye whiskers and all, and he knows it’s infectious enough to at least ease the frown off of Mark’s face. Mark wipes at his eyes brusquely and Jinyoung pretends he hasn’t noticed. 

“Yeah.” Mark coughs out a laugh, lets his shoulders slump. “I guess so, yeah. Can’t even be alone in my room without annoying friends asking me to go to the beach and get sand in my boxers,” he jokes with a nudge to Jinyoung’s ribs, and Jinyoung takes it like a compliment. 

“I knew you’d be sulking in there,” he jibes back, comfortingly playful instead of overbearingly concerned.

“What, like you?” Mark shoots back, and barely dodges Jinyoung’s answering shove. “I’m going to get sand all over you —” Jinyoung growls, but Mark leaps up and runs, his bright laugh echoing into the salty air. Tomorrow he’ll have to be on again — performing, acting like everything’s okay, acting like none of it bothers him. 

But tonight, right now, he’ll leave his sneakers in the sand and run until he’s breathless, until his lungs burn and his eyes sting, until he remembers where he’s from, but also where he’s going, with six by his side and the whole world before him. 

He’ll thank Jinyoung for the reminder another day — maybe tomorrow. He grins at the thought — he has tomorrow. 

There’ll always be tomorrow.


End file.
